


Pass the Torch

by StripedSunhat



Series: Single Father Klaus [15]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Accidentally High, Boss/Employee Relationship, Favoritism, Gen, Humor, Pre-Canon, Surprise guest appearance by Klaus's regrets, Why Gil needs therapy, Why Klaus needs therapy, Why Sparks need therapy, improper lab safety, this is either a promotion or a death threat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-18 06:34:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18244346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripedSunhat/pseuds/StripedSunhat
Summary: Gil gets lit and illuminates some things, Jacob takes the first step toward that oh so elusive goal of retirement and Boris might want to consider brushing back up on his juggling skills.Klaus?Klaus will settle for getting his desk back.





	Pass the Torch

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Klaus's happy fun-time parenting fails! There's sage nods, workplace intimidation and an excess of fruit.

Klaus was not a man given to self-reflection. It wasn’t that he thought himself a perfect man or didn’t see the purpose of it. Rather he didn’t have the time to spare. The empire was a never-satisfied beast. It’s hard to justify wasting time getting into a staring contest with his soul while the empire was on fire.

However he was still at least the smallest bit self-aware. Certainly self-aware enough to recognize his most definitive purpose on this earth: keeping his son safe.

It was a far more complex problem than it should be. Keep Gil safe – keep him far away from anything dangerous. There, done. Problem solved. Except that ‘anything dangerous’ constituted _everything_. Including most of Gil’s own ideas and actions.

But.

Fortunately, Klaus had developed a series of more direct sub-goals to help him with his ultimate goal of keeping Gil safe.

**– Keep Gil a secret**

       Partially successful. Gil’s identity was still a secret even if Gil himself was a frustratingly well-known entity

**– Keep Gil away from assassins.**

       Less successful than he’d prefer. Any assassins were too many and his son was some kind of magnet for them. At least they usually were already in the process of being dealt with by someone else when Gil got involved. Usually.

**– Make sure Gil knew how to protect himself.**

       Arguably the most successful of his sub-goals and thank everything for that. If he was going to be less than successful on the assassin front at least he made up some ground in making sure Gil was prepared for them.

**– Keep Gil surrounded by competent protectors.**

      Also exceptionally successful. The jägers were exceedingly helpful with that point.

**– Build up Gil’s immunity to as many poisons/truth serums/diseases as possible.**       

      ...

      …Currently less successful than usual.

“There's so many colors.”

It seemed that the truth serums Klaus was currently working on building up an immunity in Gil came with a few… side effects. In retrospect he probably shouldn’t have tried to make a catch-all remedy to so many similar ones at once.

Gil stretched his hand out towards the ceiling from where he was draped over Klaus’s desk. “Why are there so many colors? Have there always been so many colors? You don’t look at the ceiling very often. That’s a security risk. We should fix that. I spent a few hours staring at the ceiling once. I was waiting for you. I don’t think you ever showed up that day. There weren’t any colors then. I think I actually might have stared at the ceiling a few times. Father when did there get to be so many colors?”

Before Klaus could respond to any part of that rant there was a knock on the door followed immediately by Boris’s entrance. “Herr Baron, I –” Boris stopped, one hand still on the door handle as he took in the scene before him. Gil splayed out over Klaus’s desk and all the papers thereon like the world’s laziest secured lab specimen, arm half extended towards the ceiling, Klaus standing off to the side near his head apparently making no move to remove him.

“Boris!” Gil called cheerily, hoping down off the desk with a level of grace someone his level of impaired shouldn’t be able to achieve. It rather reminded Klaus of a drunk jäger, made all the more dangerous by their lack of control.

Boris’s gaze darted over to Klaus. Then Gil. Then back to Klaus again. “Herr Baron, I had hoped to speak to you regarding matters of some sensitivity. Perhaps –”

“Oh don’t worry Boris, it’s alright,” Gil said, bounding over to him. “I’m allowed to be here. I’m actually probably more allowed here than you are.”

“Is that… so,” Boris said slowly.

“Uh huh. I’m always allowed to be here.   Have been for years. Ever since I found out. Well, give or take. Although now that I think about it, it might have taken a few months. But that might have more been Father forgetting to mention it than me still not being allowed like the other students.” Klaus’s breath caught in his throat. Gil did not just say that. He did not just forget everything Klaus had drilled into him for years. Gilgamesh did not just call him _Father_ in front of Boris.

“Father?” Of course Boris would pick up on that. Why couldn’t he have hired simpering idiots like every other lord in Europa?

“Oh yes!” Gil chirped. “You see I’m not actually an orphan at all. I’m really Gilgamesh Wulfenbach not Gil Holzfäller.

“Gilgamesh!”

“Oh relax Father, it’s just Boris. You’ve been trying to figure out how to best tell him about me for almost two months.”

“You’re Klaus’s… son.”

“Yup!” Gil chirped with a huge smile. Boris’s questioning gaze darted over to Klaus. Gil’s smile dropped as he noticed. “You don’t believe me?” he asked.

Very carefully Boris set his papers down on Klaus’s desk eyes locked on Gil the entire time. “It’s just that there’s no indication of the Baron having any children.”

Gil’s smile returned full force. “That’s ‘cause I’m a secret! But not like the bad kind of secret. Father didn’t grow me in a lab or anything. Although I did wonder about that myself for a few years there. But don’t worry, I do have a mother. One Father was married to and everything. Is married to. I think she’s still alive.” He turned and tilted his head at Klaus. “Father, is mother still alive? She’s probably still alive,” he told Boris, nodding sagely as he said it. “And now you’re as read in about my mother as I am.”

“Gilgamesh –”

Gil didn’t seem to hear him at all. He cocked his head to the other side, pulling at his ear as he stared at the ceiling. “If Father married her… and she’s still alive… Then I think that makes her the Lady Wulfenbach.” Klaus grabbed at Gil to pull him back. Gil ducked out of the hold, weaving easily to the side as he kept talking. “She probably should be the Baroness Wulfenbach but I don’t think she would be. I think Father would have to give her that title and I don’t think he likes her very much. I know he loves her but everyone knows you can love someone without liking them. It just helps with the whole, you know,” – Gil waved his hand in a distracted circle – “happiness thing. But ether way they were married when I was born. So I’m not just some bastard Father legitimized because he had no other options.” He gave a loose shrug and draped himself back over the desk. “Do you think I look like Father?”

Boris physically wheeled backwards a step. “Um, what?” he said dumbly looking more thrown than he had the entire conversation. Gil didn’t pay any attention, tracing nonsense patterns at the ceiling.

“I’m a little surprised no one’s noticed how much I look like him. But no one else seems to have noticed so that might just be wistful thinking. Then again most people here have known me since I was little and I looked really different back then.” He suddenly sat up and focused intently on Boris. “You only recently came to the airship. You don’t have any old memories of when I was a kid messing up your perception. Do you think I look like Klaus?”

“Um…”

“Gilgamesh that is enough.”

“Right. Sorry Father,” Gil replied automatically. He clamored to his feet. “I’m sure you and Boris are both very busy and have a lot to –” Gil cut himself off, freezing. “The colors changed,” he said.

“Colors?” Boris tentatively asked

“On the ceiling. They were different before. No one looks at the ceiling enough. It’s a security risk.” Gil gave another sage nod before leaning in and squinting at Boris. “You look tired. Have you been eating lately?” He grabbed an orange from the bowl of fruit someone had wedged next to the current incarnation of the tea-testing plant. “It’s important to eat regularly,” he intoned solemnly. Well it was nice to know that particular teaching was well and truly wedged in Gil’s subconscious. “I’ve meant to eat before but then I drop into a fugue and the next thing I know it’s fifteen hours later and I still haven’t eaten. The lab floors are very hard.”

“Fugue? I thought you weren’t – I mean I was under the impression you had not broken through yet.”

Klaus gave up. Apparently this was just happening now. Sometimes you just had to accept that some things couldn’t be stopped and trying to was equivalent to smacking his head against the wall.

“I’ve been broke through years ago. Way back when I was eight years old. Impressive isn’t? Father is very proud. Or at least he would be if he allowed anyone to know about it. We can’t have that. _That might give away the game,_ ” he added in a conspiratorial whisper, voice somehow louder than if he was speaking normally. “It does mean that it’s hard to get proper lab assistants. I mean you can build minions but that doesn’t mean they’ll be meant for the lab. Zoing for example: wonderful friend, less than helpful with machining. Do you know who make really good minions? Jägers.”

Boris’s lip curled in distaste. It was the probably the most human expression Klaus had ever seen on his face. “Jägers,” he echoed incredulously.

“It’s true,” Gil said, nodding enthusiastically. “They know all the basic tools, they’re strong enough to help with the big stuff and they’re surprisingly good at the finicky stuff too. They’re smarter than they look too. I’m not saying most of them are exactly what you’d call smart but they know how to listen to Sparks and pick up on the important stuff.”

He spun around, arms flinging out from the speed of the motion. “We should really have them teach some of the other minions that. They need to get better at sorting out what a Spark _means_ when they say things. A lot of them are kind of horrible at it. That’s how somebody ends up dead, _und not een de fun vay._ ” He said, dropping into a near perfect jäger accent.

Looking down he noticed the orange still in his hand. “Food! Right! We were talking about the importance of food.” He threw the orange at Boris. While it was probably meant as a gentle lob, it ended up being something closer to a fastball at his head. "Eat while walking if you have to, it's still better than passing out." He stood proudly for a minute before frowning critically. “This won't work. Oranges are hard to eat on the go. Peels.” A pear went happily screaming through the air towards Boris face. His eyes went very wide and he blocked it with a file folder before scrambling to catch it.

Gil turned back to Boris then suddenly stopped. He cocked his head to the side. He circled Boris, leaning and peering at him. “You have extra arms.”

A vein in Boris’s forehead twitched. “…Yes,” he ground out, “I do.”

“So you could eat an orange on the go no problem after all.” He wheeled around on his heel and began rummaging through the fruit bowl again.

“Getting enough food is important. That’s why I always store food in my lab. Of course you have to be careful with that. Biological contaminants and all that. That’s what makes jägers such good lab assistants. They’re hard to poison.

“You seem… particularly fond of the idea of jägers where they shouldn’t be,” Boris said and Klaus had to agree. Gil had always been like that.

“Who says they’re not supposed to be there? I wrote down all the reasons they should once. When I was, ten? Eleven? It was twenty-seven pages. Gave it to the generals and everything. It didn’t work. Father, which has more nutrients, an apple or an orange?”

“I really wouldn’t know.”

Gil glance over at him. “Well that’s not good. You need to take care of yourself too Father. If anyone’s going to collapse from overwork it’s going to be you. And I know

“I know how little you eat.”

“It’s not your job to take care of me.”

“That’s not what Dr. Sun says!” Gil chirped, throwing an apple at him. Klaus had never considered apples as lethal projectiles before. “I get to stand in for him when he’s not aboard the airship. You just yell at everyone else.” He leaned over to Boris. “He yells at me too, the difference is I get to yell back.” Grinning, Gil took a huge bite out of the fruit in his hand. Unfortunately he’d forgotten he kept hold of the orange. His face screwed up and a full-bodied shutter ran through him as he swallowed. “That was disgusting.” Boris offered him the pear. “Thanks,” Gil said, handing him the bitten orange in exchange. “But what am I doing. You came in to talk to Father about something. I’ll come back later, Father. Bye Boris!” He dropped the pear on top of Klaus’s desk and bounded towards the door.

“Gil wait –!”

“No, Father, you’re busy. I know how the empire goes. Besides Theo and Slepnir had something they’ve been wanting to show me. I should go see them before they start thinking I’m avoiding them or something.”

Gil had already rounded the corner by the time Klaus got to the doorframe. He resisted the urge to sigh. “You!” he yelled at the jäger with the most impressive hat he could see. “I have a job for you!”

“Ja, Herr Baron?”

“Gil’s on his way back to the school. Go retrieve him before he gets there and take him to medical. Don’t let him talk to anyone.”

The jäger gave a terrifyingly wide smile. “Ja, Herr Baron!” Putting his fingers in his mouth he gave an earsplitting whistle. Two more jägers appeared at his side. “Ve Hunt!”

“Ve Hunt!” the other two echoed before all three took off.

“Is it… safe… to…?” Boris started to ask, watching the miniature hunting party tear off down the hall.

“If Gil at fifteen can’t handle three jägers then I worry for my parenting skills.” Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose and allowed himself the indulgence of a deep sigh. Before he could call for him Jacob appeared at the doorframe.

“Dare I ask what all that was about?” Klaus glanced up for a moment before deciding he wasn’t done sighing.

“Young Herr Holzfäller decided to clarify some things about himself,” he heard Boris say.

“Namely that he’s a Wulfenbach,” Klaus added dryly.

“Ah,” Jacob said with a sage nod. “Gil’s in one of _those_ moods.”

“They’re going to corral him to Medical. Make sure he only has contact with those whom he should and send for Dr. Sun. Make sure the school knows Gilgamesh is in medical and will be out…” Klaus paused, trying to calculate how long Gil would have to be quarantined.

“Until further notice,” Jacob finished smoothly, never even slowing as he calmly gathered up the fluttering halo of papers that always surrounded him. “And make sure Madame Von Pinn knows it’s not the kind of medical trip that allows for official visitors or the snuck-in kind.” He snagged the last of his papers and bowed. “Of course, Herr Baron.”

“When you’re done with that come back here. I’ll need you to deal with Boris.” Jacob glanced over, studying Boris and down where he was still standing hands tucked behind him, before turning back to Klaus.

“And will Mr. Dolokhov still have all of his faculties and limbs intact when I return?”

Klaus sensed more than saw the way Boris went absolutely rigid. The involuntary stiffening of every limb sweeping through him, leaving him locked in place. He waved a dismissive hand; focus largely turned towards the still-functioning underling. “Nothing like that. You’ve been overworked for ages. Now that the cat’s out of the bag as it were Boris can help you with some of your more sensitive tasks. See how it goes.”

Jacob brightened. “Oh it’s like that.” He grabbed Boris’s upper right hand, pumping it up and down cheerily. “The very best of luck to you.” Without any ceremony he then flung the papers at Boris’s chest, forcing him to scramble with his other three hands to catch them. “You’re going to need ever last bit of it.” He gave Boris’s hand a final squeeze before letting go and skipping merrily toward the door. “I’ll bring the rest when I come back!”

And then Klaus and Boris were alone.

Boris gingerly set the half-eaten orange on the corner of Klaus’s desk, followed by the hastily organized stack of Jacob’s cloud of papers. “Herr Ba–”

Right, banalities first. “Tell me Boris, when, exactly, did you decide yourself important enough to barge into _my private office_ without waiting for my permission to enter?”

Boris froze, the instinctual reaction of cornered prey animals. “I apologize, Herr Baron. It was poorly done of me.”

**_“Exceedingly.”_** Klaus had to give Boris credit for only slightly cowering. He’d known several weaker-nerved minions to faint dead away at that particular tone.

“I assure you, Herr Baron, it will not happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t. It would be hazardous to your health to do so again.”

Boris gulped. “Of course, Herr Baron.”

Klaus sighed again. He never should have started. Now he’d never stop. “And to answer your next question, yes Gilgamesh is in fact my son.”

“Well that certainly makes a lot more sense.”

“A lot more than **_what?_** ” Boris flinched again. “I’m waiting, Boris. What, _exactly,_ did you think about my son?”

“Nothing that would have affected how I would have interacted with him.”

Klaus glared at him. “We will be coming back to that _later_.” Boris gulped. “But for now best we move on to other things.”

“Of course, Herr Baron.” Either Boris was feeling uncontrollably curious or suicidal because the next words out of his mouth were, “Your wife…”

**_“Is not a subject open to discussion,”_** Klaus growled. Boris stumbled backwards into a shelf. Klaus took a deep breath focused on reining himself back in. Allow me to make one thing perfectly clear. Gil is the single most important thing in the world.”

_Tuffs of bright green hair and tiny chubby little fists curled tight around suddenly too-large, too-awkward fingers. “She’s got a warrior’s grip already. Just watch, she’s going to grow up to be so strong.”_

He pushed the memory down with long practice the same way he had for almost a decade and a half. Gil’s safety was the most definitive purpose in his life. He’d made that choice years ago and he wouldn’t back down on it. Certain things had to be sacrificed in pursuit of it. No matter how much it hurt.

“Gilgamesh is my only son. My only –

“Protecting Gilgamesh is the sole purpose of this **empire.** Do I make myself clear?”

Boris physically braced himself before saying, “Herr Baron. When you first brought me on board you asked me for my loyalty. And I gave it. Herr Baron, while you created the empire with your own hands and while you are the driving force behind it, you are not the entirety of the empire. I am loyal to the Wulfenbach **Empire**. And I will remain so, even after you have left it behind.”

“Those are bold words, Boris,” Klaus said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Herr Baron.”

“Some might even call them dangerous ones.”

Boris stiffened before forcing himself back to normal. “I am aware, Herr Baron.”

“And yet you decided to say them anyway.”

“I did, Herr Baron.”

“You say you are loyal to the empire. Let’s say for now I chose to believe you. What will you do should you decide that Gilgamesh is not what is best for the empire?”

Boris was silent for a long moment, clearly parsing through his words carefully beforehand. “It’s not for the likes of me to decide what is best for the empire. All it is for the likes of me to do is to help the empire forward on its chosen trajectory as best I can. By assisting, advising perhaps but never directing. At least, never on that scale. Gilgamesh is the future of the empire. I will remain loyal to the empire when he takes over, the same that I am now.”

Klaus studied the man in front of him, staring him down. “I plan to send Gilgamesh to university. What would you say if I told you I plan to pass the empire on to him when he returns?”

“I… would suggest that you begin giving Gilgamesh more… public responsibilities. And I would also suggest perhaps revealing his… heritage, halfway through his tenure at university if not at the beginning, so that he can be a more established figure before becoming the Baron. It may cut down on the level of… instability during the transition.”

Klaus held his gaze. That was a very good answer. All of his answers had been made of very pretty words but ultimately they didn’t mean anything. Words could hardly be proven before the moment of truth. Klaus would just have to take it on faith Boris was telling the truth. Klaus _hated_ faith. “Relax. I’m not planning on handing the empire over any time soon.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Boris muttered in a tone Klaus was sure he wasn’t meant to hear.

For the sake of expediency Klaus chose to ignore the remark for now merely filing it away to bring up later along with Boris’s mystery theories on Gil.

“I am not a young man anymore.”

“You’re a far cry from ancient, Herr Baron.”

“I’m not saying I am. And I don’t intend to keel over any time soon. But I am also not immortal. Nor do I plan to seek to become so. My legacy will be my son, not myself.”

“Of course, Herr Baron,” Boris said automatically.

“You are not an old man.”

Boris blinked rapidly, clearly not certain how to take that statement. “…Thank you, Herr Baron,” he finally settled on.

“I merely mean it as a statement of fact.”

“Of course, Herr Baron.”

“Objectively you are closer to Gilgamesh’s age than my own. You will most likely still not be an old man when Gilgamesh takes over the empire. Perhaps your duties should involve more time around him, getting to know his management style.”

Before Boris could answer, Jacob came back, surrounded by enough papers to fill the entire hall. He dropped them on Klaus’s desk and surrounding floor with a booming _THUMP_. There was a wet squishing sound and drops of fruit juice flew into the air. “I brought the first batch. I’ll need some help digging out the rest.”

Klaus sighed one last time and resigned himself to getting nothing else done for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

>  _the world’s laziest secured lab specimen_ note that does not make it the _worst_ secured lab specimen. I’ll let you decide what that looks like.  
> And yes Klaus was about to finish that second ‘my only’ with ‘child’ why do you ask?


End file.
